The Quiet Rebellion
by eedwrites
Summary: Since the age of eleven, Regulus had been groomed and shaped into the perfect heir to the Black family legacy that Sirius could never be. Now he's eighteen, a marked loner with a terrible knowledge. When he is saved from his self-sacrifice by his estranged brother, Regulus embarks on a journey of shadowed glory and quiet rebellion. Even when old wounds are healed, scars remain.
1. Prologue

**_Author's note:_** This is an AU project that I have been working on lately. This first chapter, however, could be considered cannon as none of the events contradict JKR's universe. Please enjoy. Also, this is not Sirius/Regulus slash, because I don't care that that would not necessarily be unheard of for the Blacks, that's gross. In fact, I've always headcannoned Sirius as asexual/aromantic, so if you're here for romance, please escort yourself off the premises.

Also, in case you somehow couldn't tell, I am decidedly not a middle-aged Scottish woman named Joanne. Therefore, I am unfortunately not JK Rowling. If I was JK Rowling, I would not be posting my writing on the internet for free.

If you like this story, please review, favorite, and/or follow. I live for your feedback.

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 _November 3, 1959_

An uncharacteristically disheveled Walburga Black finally leaned back onto her pillows, hair stuck to her forehead and breathing raspy. Despite her current state she still managed to fix the help with a haughty, slightly disgusted look. She took a few moments to catch her breath, dark eyes never wavering from the slightly intimidated midwife. When at last, her breathing returned to normal and she could speak in a proper tone, she cleared her throat.

The midwife turned from her ministrations on the newest Black. "Madame?" she asked respectfully.

Walburga blew out a breath in irritation. "Well?" she snapped. "What of the baby?"

The nurse gave a soft smile. "Perfectly healthy son, Madame. Would you like to hold him?"

Walburga felt her own smile form, the expression feeling foreign on her usually harsh features. "Yes, bring him here. Then you will fetch Orion, and tell him the news. He will be in his study."

The nurse gave a slight curtsy, then picked up the baby and handed him to Walburga. She exited the room with another little bow, leaving the new mother and son together.

Walburga held the boy against her knees, studying his features carefully. A tuft of dark hair lay across his head, the same shade as hers and Orion's. A little nose, high cheekbones; she traced a finger over one of them. At the touch, eyes fluttered open, and Walburga felt her breath hitch. Two orbs of mercury, staring placidly back at her. She couldn't look away, such was the force of this baby's stare.

"Sirius," she whispered. They had thought they would name him Arcturus, after Orion's father and the head of Black, but the name wasn't right for this child. Not right for a child with those eyes. Just then, the door opened and Orion himself entered, walking quickly to Walburga's side.

"A son," Walburga said quietly, her own eyes still on her son's. "Sirius Orion."

"A son," Orion repeated almost reverently. "Not Arcturus?" he asked.

"His eyes," she said, and Orion seemed to accept that as explanation enough, because he did not argue.

The next day, the three Blacks stood in another room, this one with a magnificent tapestry lining every wall. There were several charred scorches marring the cloth, but neither of the adults paid them any mind.

Orion placed his wand at the temple of his son.

" _Sanguinem magia,_ " he incanted, and Sirius gave a little whimper as a drop of blood was taken from him. The drop clung to Orion's wand, and he placed it on the golden thread that connected himself to Walburga. He watched the thread flash white.

" _Corvi Lepore."_

Across the room, the base of the tree enscribed with the crest of Black flared blue. The light followed up through the tree, reaching the branch of Orion and Walburga and casting an eerie glow on the room's occupants.

" _Crescato."_

The room filled with a blustering wind, whipping Walburga's hair and making her eyes water. The tree flashed all the brighter then all was still.

Slowly, a branch began to grow from Orion and Walburga, gracefully distancing itself from its parents. Gold thread followed the branch before connecting to a slowly opening flower. The flower opened fully to reveal the face of a young man. His mercurial eyes, perfectly matching those of the infant in Walburga's arms, glinted in the soft sunlight streaming in the window, and a slight smirk graced his smooth features. Orion and Walburga looked from the baby to the tapestry and back, before meeting each other's eyes.

"Well," Orion said. Walburga nodded. "It is done."

"It is done," Walburga echoed, and with a last glance at the tree.

 _January 31, 1961_

"No Sirius! Put that down!"

The one-year-old looked up at Andromeda, offending wand clasped in his pudgy hand. With a grin that proudly displayed his two front teeth, he banged it on the floor. Gold sparks flew out, and Andromeda rushed over and snatched the wand out of his hand, silently wondering where the Sirius even got the thing. And whose it was in the first place.

"Andiiii…" came a whine from an armchair in the corner of the nursery. Andromeda turned and arched an eyebrow at the little blonde with a book in her lap.

"Cissy?" she returned, annoyed already.

"Why are we here?" said the five-year-old. "And where's Bella?"

"We are here because Aunt Walburga is having a baby, and she asked us to watch Sirius. Bella is wandering."

Narcissa looked troubled. "But Bella's ten, and you're only seven. Bella should be in charge," she said, as if it made all the sense in the world. Andromeda rolled her eyes.

"You know Bella doesn't like babies. She's probably off hexing the house elf. It's better to just let her be," she said as she turned back to Sirius.

Now, as Narcissa had mentioned, Andromeda was only seven. And she had not seen many babies. The Rosiers had one, a year older than Sirius, and so did the Averys. Neither of them were very cute though, the one or two times Andromeda had seen them. Sirius, however, was very, very, very cute.

She grinned as Sirius stuck his hands out, and plopped down on the floor next to him. She pulled the toddler between her legs and tickled his stomach, giggling when he did.

"Don't worry, Siri. Little siblings aren't so bad until they get older. Then they become whiny brats." She heard Narcissa huff behind her. "Babies are pretty fun, I think. But I don't remember when Cissy was a baby and my cousin Evan isn't very nice. You're nice, though, Siri, so I'd say your sibling will be nice too."

"I hope he gets a sister," Narcissa chimed in from her chair. "Then I'll get to boss someone around like you and Bella do to me."

"Why can't you boss Sirius around?"

Andromeda looked over her shoulder in time to see Narcissa wrinkle her nose. "Because Sirius is a boy, and the heir to our house. One day, he'll boss us around."

Andromeda looked back at Sirius, who currently had a lock of her curly brown hair in his mouth. It sure didn't seem like he would one day boss her around. No, she couldn't allow that. She nodded.

"Sirius won't get to boss me around, not ever. I'm older."

Narcissa scoffed. "That's not how it works, Andi."

Andromeda scoffed right back. "Watch me."

The two sisters descended back into their previous activities, Narcissa to her picture book and Andromeda to her cousin, seemingly having reached an impasse.

A while later, Druella, their mother, came into the nursery, Bellatrix at her side. Mother's hand was clamped over her eldest daughter's shoulder, seemingly preventing an escape. She frowned at Andromeda as soon as she entered.

"Get off the floor and close your legs Andromeda. It is uncouth for a lady to present herself so," Mother said as she came by and swooped up Sirius, pulling Andromeda up as she did so.

"Are we leaving, Mother?" said Narcissa excitedly. Andromeda had other thoughts on her mind.

"Did Aunt Walburga have her baby?" she asked with equal excitement.

Mother nodded. "Regulus Arcturus, another son," she said, with a touch of resentment that went well over the heads of all her children.

Andromeda bounded over to Sirius, who was now in his crib. "Hear that, Siri? You've got a brother now!" Sirius smiled again.

"Call him by his proper name, Andromeda."

"Can I see the baby, Mother?" Andromeda said, ignoring her mother's previous remark.

"Not today," the mother returned. "We must leave to give the family some rest. Kreacher will look after Sirius."

Andromeda sighed pitifully, and with a final look at her baby cousin, she followed her mother and sisters out of the room.

 _June 19, 1964_

Sirius fidgeted in his seat, stabbing moodily at his fish.

He didn't even _like_ fish. In fact, he didn't particularly like Bella, so it made no sense to him why he was even here. Plus, Mother didn't make Reggie come.

"Quit that, Sirius."

Sirius gave his best five-year-old glare to Cissy as she slapped his hand away from his tie. Once, at a big ministry function Father had dragged him to, Sirius had met another boy his age. Sirius didn't quite remember his name, but the boy had said that at some parties you didn't have to wear a tie. The boy had also had hair that looked like it had never been combed, so he would probably know. If it was up to Sirius, he would wear a t-shirt. Not that he owned a t-shirt, but he saw one once that was red. He would like a red t-shirt, he decided.

Andi looked at him sympathetically from across the table, where she was seated next to Bella. Bella had invited her boyfriend to her birthday party. Sirius couldn't say his name, but the older boy had gotten very upset when he called him Ralph. Sirius decided he would keep calling him Ralph. After all, Ralph wasn't very nice; Sirius figured that was why Bella liked him.

Sirius fidgeted again. He wanted to go home and play with Regulus. Mother had invited Great Aunt Cassiopeia over to watch Reggie instead of just letting Kreacher do it, for some reason. Sirius didn't like Aunt Cassie so much, and certainly didn't like the idea of her watching Reggie, at least not without him there too. If Sirius was there too, then they could explore the house while Aunt Cassie was looking in the mirror.

"Andromeda," said Father suddenly from the head of the table. Andi's dark eyes flicked to Sirius's silver for a moment before meeting Father's.

"Uncle?" she addressed respectfully.

"You are to start Hogwarts in the fall?" Father asked. Sirius's head snapped up from his plate to look to his father questioningly. Andi was what now?

Andi didn't even falter, but got a small smile on her face. "Yes, Uncle."

Sirius blinked at her in shock. She met his eyes then, and smiled, then mouthed _later_.

"You will do our family proud, I'm sure," Father continued, ignoring their exchange. The veiled threat went beyond Sirius, but not Andromeda, as she nodded meekly.

"Of course, Uncle," she replied with a bow of her head. Father nodded, satisfied.

Way too many minutes and much fidgeting later, the dinner was done and Mother and Father were saying goodbye to Aunt Druella and Uncle Cygnus. Sirius stood in the hall with Andi, back straight as he'd been told since he could stand.

"Siri," she began, placing her hand under his chin and forcing him to meet her eyes.

"You're leaving?" Sirius asked trying his best to keep his voice even. Andi crouched down so they were the same height and brushed his hair back.

"I'm going to go to school with Bella, but not for another two months. And then I'll come back for Christmas a few months after that, so you mustn't worry," Andi explained gently. Sirius sniffed.

"Can I come too?" he asked. Andi grinned at him.

"Siri, you're only four. You have to be eleven to go to Hogwarts."

Sirius huffed. "I'm almost _five_."

Andi nodded seriously. "Yes, you will be five in November," she said, then stood and kissed his forehead. "I'll come and celebrate with you over winter holiday, how does that sound? Bella says they have a candy store in the village nearby. I'll ask her to get you something."

Sirius didn't mention that he wanted her to be there _on_ his birthday, because she knew that. So instead, he nodded.

Andi kissed him on his cheek, and Sirius very discreetly wiped his face on his sleeve. "Tell Reggie hello for me, Siri. I'll try and visit in two weeks, and I'll keep reading to you guys from that storybook, yeah?"

"Alright," Sirius said with a half-smile. He scuffed the toe of his shoe on the floor. "'Bye," he muttered.

"I'll see you soon, Siri. Let's say goodbye to Bella and Cissy now too."

Sirius wrinkled his nose. "Do I have to say bye to Ralph?"

Andi started giggling.

Later that night, after Mother had shuffled him off to bed and headed into the drawing room with Aunt Cassie, Sirius crept out of bed and silently into Reggie's room. Reggie looked asleep in his new bed, the one that was as big as Sirius's, so Sirius climbed up onto it and under the covers. As if he had been expecting it, the younger boy rolled over, so the brothers were lying side by side, facing the ceiling.

"How was Bella's party?" Reggie whispered. Sirius thought for a moment.

"Stuffy," he finally answered.

"You say that about every party, Siri," Reggie mumbled with a yawn.

"Andi's leaving," Sirius countered, wanting to get to more important matters. Reggie turned so he was looking directly at Sirius, his smoke-colored eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Why?" he asked worriedly.

"She's goin' to Hogwarts. Like Bella does."

"She hasn't finished the story yet."

Sirius yawned and shut his eyes. "She says she's comin' soon to read to us," he said quietly. "Guess what?"

"What?" Reggie asked.

"Bella brought a boy. His name is Ralph. But he didn't like it when I called him Ralph. When he left, Ralph kissed Bella on the lips."

"Ew," Regulus said simply.

"Ew," Sirius agreed with vigorous nod and a sleepy smile.

 _February 7, 1966_

Walburga held tightly onto both Sirius's and Regulus's shoulders as she hurried down Diagon Alley, not stopping until she reached Gringotts. When they entered the marble building, she let them go with the strict instruction to stay together and still as she dealt with her business.

Regulus stood beside his brother, looking around the great room in interest. Mother rarely took them out of the house for a reason other than to go to Uncle Cygnus's house, and Regulus couldn't remember ever going to Diagon Alley before. It was all very cool.

"I want to look at brooms," said Sirius next to him.

"Have you ever flown before?" Regulus asked in return. Sirius shook his head.

"But how will I fly without a broom?" he added.

Regulus thought for a moment.

"We're wizards. There has to be a way to fly," he said after a while.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Yeah, brooms, Reggie."

Now it was Regulus's turn to roll his eyes. "No, another way, _Siri_. Without a broom."

"Pegusus?" asked Sirius.

"Those're extinct. Plus, those aren't easier to get than a broom."

Sirius shrugged. "We'll figure it out one day," he said decisively. "'Till then, I want a broom."

Regulus sighed, then nodded. A broom would be nice, after all.

 _July 9, 1969_

Andromeda watched from the front row as Bellatrix married. The ceremony was long, containing every possible wizarding tradition and then ten more that were specific to the Black and Lestrange families. Through it all, Bella stood still, finely dressed in a gown of white silk with her lips painted red. She showed no emotion as she was pronounced as one with Rodolphus Lestrange. Narcissa was silently weeping beside Andromeda, as if this was the most beautiful proclamation of love that ever was. This was what Cissy wanted in life, in five years to stand in Bella's place across from Lucius Malfoy, but the idea sent a cold shiver down Andromeda's spine.

Sirius sat on her other side, gaze wholly impassive as he observed the union taking place. Regulus leaned over and whispered something in Sirius's ear, causing a smirk to appear on the older boy's face. Andromeda knew Sirius didn't like Rodolphus. _She_ didn't like Rodolphus; hell, Andromeda didn't think Bella liked Rodolphus all that much.

Finally, the ceremony was over and the reception began. Andromeda sat at a table in the corner with Sirius and Regulus, studiously avoiding any and all mothers of young, pureblooded, men.

"I can't believe she actually married _Ralph_ ," Sirius muttered in disgust, watching the couple dispassionately dance to a traditional waltz. Regulus swirled the ice in his drink.

"It's not like she had a choice, Siri. You know that," he said, sounding troubled. Andromeda wondered for perhaps the hundredth time how Regulus could be so precocious at eight years old.

Sirius scoffed, ignoring his brother. "And Cissy's all set to wed _Lucky_. Andi, do you have a wedding planned that I need to get myself some new dress robes for?" Regulus cuffed him on the back of the head.

Andromeda shrugged. Truthfully, due to some careful eavesdropping she had learned that Father was talking with the Rowles. The idea of marrying Alexius, the hideous troll, was appalling. She wasn't going to say anything to Sirius about it, though; it wasn't like he could help her any.

Instead, she smiled coyly. "Nothing in the works now, Siri, but I'll let you know. You would look _ever_ so dashing in burgundy."

Sirius smirked and opened his mouth, but Regulus beat him to it. "Sirius looks _ever so dashing_ in everything, Andi," he mocked in a horrifying imitation of Sirius. Sirius crossed his arms in a pout, at Andromeda's laugh, but the corners of his mouth were twitching.

"Well," he huffed. "It is true."

Privately, Andromeda could not call the boy a liar. She already feared for the women of Hogwarts when Sirius reached them; none would be safe from his wiles, if he chose to use them. Regulus either, though she felt for the younger boy in that he looked almost exactly like Sirius, with some subtle differences, much like herself and Bellatrix. A little smaller and thinner, perhaps, with a smaller chin, darker eyes, and shorter hair. If Reggie was anyone else's brother, he would have been called a heartbreaker, but Sirius was unfortunately about as close to human perfection as you get. Not that Regulus seemed to notice at all.

Of course, Sirius wouldn't hear any of this from her. Her baby cousin did not need a larger head than he already had.

Aunt Walburga came striding up purposefully after a while of cousins' idle chatter, grabbing Sirius by the shoulder and bustling him off to meet with some of the other children he would be attending Hogwarts with in just over two years. That left Andromeda and Regulus alone.

She moved over a seat so they were next to each other and leaned in. "So," Andromeda began in a conspiring tone. "How is the plight of the second-born treating you?"

Regulus, much to her surprise, actually grimaced. "Father is giving Sirius special lessons, with a wand and everything. Sirius is not happy about it, you know." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Siri hides it well, but I think something's off with him. Mother has been speaking sometimes of a wizard, one who wants to purify our race. Sirius can't stand it when she talks about him, he gets all stiff and still."

Andromeda closed her eyes. She knew of Voldemort, of course she did. Bella was a rather big fan of the man, after all. She opened her eyes and studied Regulus carefully. "And what do you think about it, Reggie?" she asked after a moment.

Regulus worried his lower lip. "I stay quiet, so Mother and Father don't get upset. That's what Siri has been trying to do, but he's always gotten angry fast. He's been cold to Mother lately, and she's noticed."

"What does she do?" Andromeda asked in a whisper, even though Regulus didn't really answer her question. There was a reason, after all, though she hated to admit it, that Sirius had such a temper. Aunt Walburga had a bit of a violent streak.

"Mostly just snaps at him. Father doesn't seem to notice anything's wrong, and maybe there isn't."

"But you think so?"

Regulus shrugged. "Siri acts the same as he always has, but now it seems like he's putting on an act. I don't know," he added.

Andromeda leaned back and watched Sirius standing with the other children. If he was acting, then he sure was one hell of an actor, she thought as she watched him flash the smile that tended to melt old women at Selene Greengrass; Andromeda almost laughed when she saw Selene's older brother Hyperion pull the blushing young girl closer to himself with a scowl. On the other hand, Sirius pointedly ignored the boys who were trying to get his attention, her cousin Evan among them.

She sighed. "I don't know either Reggie. Let me know if something happens though, okay?"

Regulus, proud child that he was, looked a little offended at the notion that he couldn't handle things himself. Nevertheless, he acquiesced with a nod.

Andromeda leaned over and ruffled his hair, earning herself an indignant huff from Regulus as he batted her hand away. "Now," she said with a smile. "How's it going with that potions book I lent you?"

Regulus's eyes lit up in a grin.

 _September 2, 1971_

"—YOU DISGRACE! DISGRACE TO OUR BLOOD, THE BLOOD OF THE MOST NOBLE AND ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK! A SON OF OUR HOUSE, IN _GRYFFINDOR_ , HOUSE OF MUDBLOODS AND BLOOD-TRAITORS, WHAT WOULD OUR ANCESTORS THINK! THIS IS ALMOST AS UNACCEPTABLE AS HUFFLEPUFF, SIRIUS ORION BLACK, AND YOU _WILL_ SEE THE HEADMASTER AND DEMAND A RESSORTMENT BY SUNDOWN TODAY OR THERE WILL BE HELL TO PAY, YOU LITTLE DEMON!"

Sirius stared, fighting hard to keep his expression under control, at the ashes left on the table after his mother had finished her screeching. The Great Hall was silently watching the end of the Gryffindor table, some of the older students sending him sympathetic looks while most of the younger ones stared wide-eyed. At the Slytherin table, Narcissa kept her eyes firmly on her plate, while Andi looked to be fighting back tears; Rosier, Avery, and Mulciber looked positively smug.

Sirius hadn't precisely meant to be in Gryffindor. Though his little conversation with James Potter on the train had opened his eyes to the possibility, when Sirius got up to the stool and the hat was placed on his head, he had just told the thing to place him wherever it saw fit. Sirius had been reasonably sure that would be Slytherin, but here he was.

"Mr. Black."

Sirius looked up at the stern witch who had been introduced as Professor McGonagall the night before. Out of instinct, he smoothed out his features into a mask of mild distaste; Mother had taken time out of her _busy schedule_ to go through the staff at Hogwarts with him, blood status obviously included. McGonagall was a half-blood, which put her in the "do not speak with unless positively necessary" category. In fact, everyone, Headmaster included, was in that category besides the Slytherin house head Professor Slughorn.

Sirius figured he should probably forget all of that now.

The witch gestured with her hand. "I'd like to speak with you outside, Mr. Black, if you would care to follow me," she said, her tone slightly gentler.

Sirius nodded stiffly and stood, walking with his hands folded behind his back and his chin held high. Once outside the great doors and in the Entrance Hall, McGonagall turned to face him and set up a privacy bubble.

She huffed. "Firstly, you're not getting resorted. My _apologies_ ," she gritted out the word like she couldn't believe she was saying it. "- go to your mother."

Sirius shrugged. "I figured," he said. McGonagall looked slightly stunned at his lack of argument. He lifted a brow at her expression. "Apparently," Sirius drawled, falling back into old habits. "I'm a Gryffindor. The harm has been done, Professor. Might as well live up to it."

The professor nodded briskly. "Very well then," she said as she made to turn, then paused, her expression softening. "And Mr. Black? Let someone know if you have any trouble, and do try and not alienate your housemates. Gryffindors, you will find, are not nearly as bad as you have been told."

Sirius bit back the urge to scoff. Instead, he tilted his head in acknowledgement.

Classes were ridiculously boring that day. He had, after all, been taught much of the first-year curriculum by his father over the last two years. Levitation charms? Please, Sirius had mastered those when he was nine.

That night, while his roommates were in the common room socializing and playing exploding snap, Sirius sat on the window seat by his bed, staring up at the stars. They were so visible here, on a tower in Scotland, than they ever had been in London. Sirius, for the first time in his life had felt something akin to awkwardness today. At home, everyone he knew had dressed, acted, and spoken just like him. Here, everyone spoke differently, and his posh, London-grown accent felt almost overdone. The Pettigrew boy spoke in soft lilting Belfast tones, Lupin and Potter had formed an immediate acquaintance over their mutual Quidditch team, the Caerphilly Catapults. The redhead, Evans, she spoke with a northern accent that Sirius knew his mother would have turned her nose up at, as did the blonde, McKinnon. Sirius had never felt like more of a rich ponce, and that wasn't just because he had been called one on at least three separate occasions today.

He sighed, and reached up to open the window to let in the breeze. Another freedom he didn't have at home, as Father had charmed the windows to never open long before Sirius was ever born so enemies didn't have a point of entry. Sirius had just nodded at the time and went on reading the second-year Charms text. He swung his legs around to hang over the ledge, reveling slightly in the knowledge that it was hundreds of feet to the ground; for some reason, the thought sent a thrill straight down his spine. A dark shape was gliding along the treetops of the forest, and for a moment Sirius let himself believe it was some sort of unknown creature hunting in the night rather that the bird it probably was. Indeed, the dark shape began to get close enough so Sirius could discern it was an owl. Specifically, a very distinctive black owl that was heading straight for him. Aesacus landed on Sirius's outstretched arm and hung around just long enough to drop its letter; he tried not to be offended by that. Instead, he tore open the letter with fervor.

Before he could even read any words, Sirius's brow was furrowed in concern. Regulus's usually meticulous pointed handwriting was cramped and rushed, as if he had been writing as much as fast as he could.

 _Sirius –_

 _Gryffindor? I must say I'm a little surprised. Didn't think you would stray so far from tradition, honestly._

 _Father is furious, and Mother is even worse. I assume you received her howler this morning; she's been screeching so all day. I haven't left our floor before now. Kreacher is bringing my meals, he's repeating some of Mother's best insults for you while doing so._

 _Father says that I "need to catch up", so I think he wants to give me private lessons like he did for you._

 _Right, I'm stalling. Mother has decided she is going to screen all of your mail home to me, so chances are, if you send a letter, I won't receive it. She thinks you will corrupt me, though I don't see how you are a different person than you were two days ago. I'm not supposed to be sending this at all, but I wanted you to know from me. You need not bother to reply to this._

 _Brother, know that I am thinking of you, and hope you are happy with your choices. I think we have always known we were different people to some degree, and this serves only to show how much. Reluctantly, I admire your bravery._

 _I will write again if I can find a chance to sneak up to the attic again. I'm letting Aesacus out of the vent, like a stowaway. If I were you, I would try and stay at Hogwarts for Christmas hols._

 _Your brother,_

 _Regulus_

Sirius reread the letter twice, trying to take in all the information. His first instinct was to be surprised about how well Regulus had taken his sorting. Then, he was pissed.

Mother thought he was going to _corrupt_ Regulus. Did she not think he had been trying for most of his life? Reggie was nearly incorruptible, except when it mattered. Like now, apparently.

Sirius crumpled the letter into a ball in his fist, and without conscious thought, hurled it against the wall. He was panting heavily with the effort of controlling his expression, unaware of why he was even doing so considering he was alone. Sirius glared at the parchment with everything he had, then whirled around, unable to look at it any longer.

"Are you alright, mate?"

Sirius stiffened at the voice sounding from the doorway, behind his back. He glanced at the parchment on the floor. "What does it matter to you?" he scoffed, turning his gaze back to the window. Sirius, the star, was easily visible.

Potter was silent for a while before he spoke again. "We're dormmates. Someone's got to be there for you, and if those prats you were raised with won't and our own housemates are being harsh on you— "

Sirius turned to face the other boy, mouth twisted in a snarl. "You little" -he bit back the word blood-traitor— "You think I'm upset about what those _idiots_ out there are saying about me?"

Potter's eyes were wide. "Er… yeah?" he stammered out.

Sirius threw his arms up. "Really Potter? I'm a Black, Blacks get talked about. If I could handle it at four years old when a man implied I'd become the next dark lord at a ministry banquet, I sure as hell can handle it now!"

The other boy crossed his arms defensively and sat on his bed. "Then what's got you in a state?"

Sirius narrowed his eyes, then stalked over to Regulus's letter and picked it up. He threw the crumpled-up ball to Potter, fully unaware of why he was even doing so.

"Read it, if you absolutely must, see if I care," Sirius snapped, then left the dorm with a slam of the door. He didn't know where he was going as he rushed out of the portrait hole, and it was undoubtedly an awful idea to go off wandering. Sirius was just as lost as any other first year when it came to navigating the castle.

He stormed down the seventh-floor corridor, not noticing any of the students staring at him, not that he would have cared if he had. Sirius didn't know why he was so upset about this whole ordeal anyway, it was something he should have expected. Regulus had been nice enough in his letter too, if not a little distant. That was to be expected too, all of this was predictable, and yet Sirius's blood was still boiling, and he had stopped masking his expression a while ago.

Perhaps that was why, when Andi saw him coming, she broke free from her group of Slytherins and chased after him.

"Sirius! Sirius!" the head girl called. Sirius spun on his heel, fully prepared to let out eleven years of practiced pureblood snark on whoever had _dared_ to try and speak with him. Of course, all of that stopped when Andromeda grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him into an alcove he hadn't known existed.

"What? Come to give me a tongue-lashing? I assure you, Andromeda, you cannot tell me something I have yet to hear," Sirius said scathingly. Andi winced minutely at the use of her full name, then straightened and raised a delicate eyebrow.

"Sirius," she began in a warning tone. "You'll tell me what's got you in a strop or I'll give you one better than a tongue-lashing."

"Fine," Sirius spat. "You'll be pleased to know that I have been instructed not to write Regulus, for fear I'll corrupt him. Merlin forbid little Reggie turn out a nasty blood-traitor like his brother."

Andi's expression softened into one of concern. "Siri…"

Sirius's eyes blazed silver. "I don't want your pity, Andi. I don't want your pity, or Reggie's, or McGonagall's, or James Potter's, or anyone else's for that matter."

And with that, Sirius pushed past Andromeda and back into the hall, losing himself in the twisting corridors.

* * *

 _September 1, 1972_

Regulus wiped his sweating palms on the back of his robes, the only action that betrayed his frazzled nerves in his otherwise calm demeanor. Anderson, Sarah and Baccas, Santo were sorted into Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, respectively, before the professor McGonagall called his name.

He could feel Sirius's eyes burning in the back of his head from the Gryffindor table as he walked straight-backed up to the stool and the witch beside it. The last thing Regulus noticed before the hat dropped over his eyes was that the Great Hall had gone quiet.

" _Ah, the littlest Black."_

Regulus flinched a little at the sound of the voice in his head, but otherwise stayed stoic.

" _Loyalty to family? Very interesting, but to what family will it be?_ "

"If you put me in Hufflepuff I'll see to it that you are burned," Regulus thought furiously. The hat chuckled, which was a rather odd thought.

" _No, not Hufflepuff for you, though that cousin of yours... truer Hufflepuff than most Hufflepuffs are. You, a very strong mind, and an eagerness to learn. Ravenclaw would suit you very well, but then again, threatening me was a very Slytherin thing to do. Ruthlessness is not yet in your nature, however, young Black, not like your brother. It is an ingrained defense mechanism."_

Regulus was silent as that hat continued to think.

" _You are brave, and yes, loyal. Both traits that could very easily put you alongside your brother in Gryffindor. But yours is a quiet bravery where the elder's is loud. The Gryffindors would not know what to do with you. Yes, your intelligence is your defining feature, Mr. Black; you are sharper than most of the students I have seen in years. Ravenclaw would most definitely suit you extremely well. Alas, for this one, I must leave your fate up to you."_

Regulus closed his eyes painfully, and prayed to Merlin and Morgana and anyone else who might care to listen, knowing what he was about to do would break Sirius's heart.

" _Very well,_ " the Sorting Hat sighed, sounding quite put out. " _But Mr. Black, know that there is more than one path for you to follow. Perhaps, in the shadows you'll find glory, and to do that, you'll have to be in…_ "

"SLYTHERIN!"

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ Now, I am the absolute worst when it comes to updating regularly, but I'm trying for weekly. We'll see how that goes, so if you like this story, I'd advise following and turning on alerts.


	2. Poison and Flame

_**Author's note:**_ Okay, so I decided to just put up the next chapter early since I had it written. Happy whatever spring holiday you celebrate!

Not JKR, too American.

* * *

 _November 1979_

Regulus flipped pages at a furious rate, adding to his notes in a scrawl that was hardly legible. He was on his second roll of parchment when he dropped his quill with a hiss, his right hand going to clutch at his left forearm. He stood, still rubbing at the burning mark as he hurriedly dressed in hooded black robes. Regulus disappeared with a nearly silent click.

As soon as his feet were steady on the ground, Regulus was moving toward the drawing room. Lestrange Mansion was dark, with gothic columns and arching windows that somehow let in no light. While he moved through the corridors, Regulus enforced his Occlumency shields, bringing forward the loyalty he had felt in his earliest days as a Death Eater, the resentment he still felt towards his brother, the unwilling hatred for the non-pureblooded he had been trained to feel since birth while squirreling away all other emotions.

He pulled open the ornate wooden door and took several steps forward before bending on one knee. His eyes were kept on the floor.

"My Lord, you called for me?" Regulus said in a smooth, even voice.

The Dark Lord stood before him, looking down on his servant. "Regulus," he said. It took all Regulus's will power to not shiver at the almost fond tone. "You have done good work for me since your graduation. As expected for a wizard of your impeccable breeding."

"Thank you, My Lord. Your praise means much to me," Regulus intoned, without inflection.

The Dark Lord ignored him. "You are very powerful, and exceptionally intelligent. As is, I hear from Bellatrix, your brother, the Gryffindor," the red-eyed man mused. "I am a merciful Lord, so you are forgiven for not informing me yourself. As it stands, however, I cannot have such a wizard in Dumbledore's command, and I coincidentally also require a final test of your loyalty to me and my cause. There is an obvious solution to both my dilemmas. You will bring Sirius Black to me so he will join you in my service, or you will kill him. You have two days, and if your task has not been accomplished by then, you must die in his place."

Regulus had his Occlumency shields up to full strength to remain calm. "Is that all, My Lord?" he asked, voice not betraying his hammering heart.

The Dark Lord inclined his head. "You will return in two days. Dismissed."

Regulus stood and bowed, then walked out of the room as fast as he could without jogging. So, it would be his life or Sirius's. Regulus didn't even have to think for a minute.

Sirius deserved to live, for he was free and was loved. Regulus was tainted, with a mark on his soul and a heart that had forgotten how to love. But, if he was to die in two days' time, then it would be on his own terms. Regulus had things to do.

He appeared in his bedroom and immediately went to his desk, opening an old book. He read it quickly for the dozenth time, then closed the book and pulled out a piece of parchment. He wrote carefully, then blew on it to dry the ink. Regulus steeled himself. It was now or never.

"Kreacher!"

The old elf appeared with a crack of displaced air. "Master Regulus calls Kreacher?" he croaked.

Regulus grabbed a silver dagger out of a drawer in his desk.

"Take me."

Kreacher started shaking his head frantically. "NO!" he shrieked. "Kreacher will not take Master Regulus to that nasty, nasty, place!"

Regulus kneeled in front of the elf and placed a hand on his shoulder placatingly. "Kreacher," he said kindly. "This is an order. Take me to where he took you."

Kreacher looked near tears, and Regulus forced himself not to care. Shakily, the elf took Regulus's hand and disapparated.

They arrived in an open-mouthed cave on a cliff facing the sea. Waves ebbed and flowed from the horizon where the sun set before hitting the rocks with crashes of such great force that the resulting spray hit the wizard, even some fifty feet up.

"The entrance is on that wall, Kreacher remembers. The bad man cut Kreacher's arm, he did," Kreacher said, pointing a crooked finger at the far wall of the cavern. Regulus turned to Kreacher.

"You are to feed me the potion until it is gone, then take the horcrux and go home. You will save yourself, understood?"

Kreacher hesitated, then nodded determinedly. Regulus smiled, but it came out more like a grimace. He walked up to the wall Kreacher had pointed out, feeling the energy pulsing across the wall in dark waves. A blood sacrifice, such an archaic form of protection, and ridiculously arrogant, too. Any person willing to break into these defenses would be willing to give their blood.

Regulus sneered, the intellectual part of him somehow disappointed in the Dark Lord. He drew out his dagger and rolled up his left sleeve, then, in a movement filled with poeticism, he slashed the knife straight through the dark mark, staining the black brand and pale skin with crimson. Regulus smeared the blood into the stone, and it flashed white before revealing an archway leading to a massive lake.

"Come, Kreacher."

The elf followed and directed him to a small rowboat. Regulus had to admire the magic put in to this place, dark as may have been. It did seem a little theatrical, however.

The two quickly reached the glowing-green island in the center of the lake, disembarking the boat. It hit Regulus, then, that these were the last moments of his life. For a moment, he almost turned back, for eighteen years seemed far too short, far too young for what he was asking himself to do. He thought of Sirius then, and steeled himself. He was dying so his brother could live, and there was no better reason to die in Regulus's mind.

 _Perhaps in the shadows you will find glory_ , the Sorting Hat had said. None would ever know what he had set out to do, none would know his sacrifice. And in time, none would remember the younger Black brother, the one who was always dimmer in comparison to the elder. His name would fade into the shadows.

Regulus shut his eyes momentarily and made his way to the center of the island, taking in the basin. There it was, at the bottom of a bowl of deceptively innocent-looking potion. Regulus pointed his wand at it.

" _Geminio permanens."_

A perfect replica of the locket appeared in his hand, and Regulus pulled out his note, folding it carefully and placing it inside. He handed the locket to Kreacher.

"Place this in the basin after you take the horcrux."

Kreacher nodded once again. Regulus took a deep breath and eyed the basin wearily.

"Show time," he murmured, then plunged the ivory cup into the basin.

* * *

Sirius was just getting in from patrols when a crack echoed through his flat. His wand was out in a flash.

Though he of course had anti-apparition and dissaparition wards on his home, Sirius was still surprised to see a house elf in his living room. A very familiar house elf, at that. Kreacher didn't give Sirius much time to wonder though, as he ran over with a high-pitched squeal and grabbed Sirius's arm, dissaparating immediately.

When he landed in a cave, all thoughts of cursing the bugger were thrown out of his mind when he saw the inferi.

"Help Master Regulus, nasty disgrace! Kreacher can't let Master die!" the elf shrieked. Sirius shook himself out of his horror and began to move with the practiced movements of a soldier. In the center of the lake that Sirius was standing on the banks of was an island, completely crawling with reanimated corpses; they seemed not to notice the newcomer. The air stank with rotting flesh; light would flare from the island every once and a while, but the intervals in between were getting longer and longer before stopping all together.

Sirius may have been a Gryffindor and a blood-traitor, but at his core, he was still a Black. And as a Black, he knew that this was not the time for weak little school spells.

" _Spiritus ignus monstra!"_

A white-hot tongue of flame shot out of the end of his wand, twisting and coiling around itself. Sirius threw his arm, sending the fiery jet toward the group of inferi. They shrieked and scrambled back toward the water and away from the light and heat of the flaming creatures circling them. Sirius then ended his spell after all the corpses were back underwater, praying he was not too late.

" _Accio Regulus Black_ ," he muttered, forcing power into the spell. Sirius felt his magic straining with the effort of moving such a heavy load after the supreme effort of controlling fiendfyre, but he kept forcing power into the spell. With time, a dark shape came sailing over the lake. Sirius swore and quickly shot off a feather-light charm, but still winced when his brother hit the ground. Though after one look, Sirius could confidently say a few bruises from a heavy landing were not the most pressing of Regulus's problems.

He knelt at Regulus's side, casting the basic diagnostic charm he had learned for full moon mornings and taking in the information rapidly. The water in Regulus's lungs he drained with a spell Lily had taught him after Peter almost got drowned by the giant squid; he healed his broken nose to improve airflow. The rest would have to be done later.

"Kreacher!" he called. The elf, who was watching worriedly, looked to his former master. "Can you disapparate out of here?"

Kreacher nodded, apparently too worried about his master to insult Sirius.

"Will you take us to my flat?"

"Because you saved Master Regulus," Kreacher said diplomatically, reaching out a hand. Sirius tried very hard to mask his expression of distaste when he grabbed the elf's hand. He pulled Regulus close and they were off.

Sirius and Regulus landed in a heap back in Sirius's living room. Sirius got to his knees and addressed the house-elf.

"Kreacher, go home and tell my mother," Sirius spat the word. "That Regulus is away for a few days. Then stay there unless you are called by Regulus."

Kreacher regarded Sirius disdainfully now that all was safe, then gave a great sigh. "Nasty blood-traitor who broke Mistress's heart, ordering Kreacher around like he is still a proper Black. Kreacher only does what he say for Master," he muttered as he disappeared.

Sirius rolled his eyes, dried Regulus off, and recast the diagnostic charm. He didn't understand what had happened; the broken ribs and wrist were understandable, as were the strangulation marks, but where Regulus got a fever was beyond him. Which meant that he needed a healer. Luckily, Sirius knew one of those.

He rose to his feet and walked towards the fireplace, throwing in some floo powder and calling an address.

"Andi!"

A few minutes went by with Sirius alternating between yelling at his fireplace and making sure Regulus wasn't dead before Andromeda finally decided to show herself.

"What do you _want_ Sirius. It is two in the morning and I have a six-year-old."

"I need a healer."

Andi huffed. "Why didn't you go to the hospital, then?"

"It's a delicate situation. Not dangerous anymore, though, so if you could just come on through that would be great."

"This better be good," Andi muttered. "Let me get my bag."

Another minute went by before Andi stepped out of the floo, still in her dressing gown. Sirius mutely pointed her in the direction of Regulus, and she gasped.

"Is that…?" she asked quietly. Sirius nodded and Andi hurriedly moved to Regulus's side, kneeling and casting some ridiculously complicated spells that Sirius had no hope of understanding.

"I don't know why he's got a fever. Or why I have him at all, for that matter," Sirius said, kneeling beside her.

"What happened?"

"I got home and then Kreacher showed up, wailing. He grabbed me before I could hex him and apparated us off to this big cave where Reg was getting the shit beat out of him by what looked like the Dark Lord's personal army of inferi. After those were dealt with, Kreacher apparated me and Regulus back here."

Andi nodded dazedly while she started to set broken bones. "We need to get him awake before I can give him skele-gro, can you lift him to the couch or something?"

Sirius nodded and slid his arms under Regulus, lifting his brother up surprisingly easily. Regulus had always been on the thin side, but this was ridiculous.

"Andi, do you have a pepper-up?" Sirius asked after he deposited Regulus on the couch.

Andi looked up from where she was pulling out potions and frowned. "Why?"

"I could use one." At Andi's curious look, he shrugged. "Fiendfyre is tiring."

"You used fiendfyre?" she asked incredulously. "Never mind, here you go. I don't think I want to know."

Sirius downed the potion in one go and smiled gratefully at Andi, who was back to kneeling by Regulus. She was frowning deeply at one of her diagnostics.

"What?" Sirius asked.

"There's some sort of poison in his blood. It's not deadly, but that must explain the fever. It must have been made to weaken, not kill."

Sirius thought that over for a minute. "It would explain why Regulus wasn't fighting off the inferi well," he conceded, though why the poison was in Reg's bloodstream at all was an unknown. "How do we get rid of it?"

"We can't, it'll have to run its course. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a psychological component as well. Which is fine, except that it will be hard to get him awake to heal his bones. He also needs a potion for lung trauma," Andi explained.

"What all's broken, anyway? I saw ribs and wrist, but I was in a rush," Sirius said with a frown.

"Those, and a fractured tibia and collar bone."

"Could we just numb his breaks and then fix the bruising until he's awake?"

Andi sighed, then nodded. "I don't particularly like that, but it will probably have to do. Numbing slows healing though, that's why we don't use it in the hospital."

"You start on that; I need to improve my wards."

It was Andi's turn to look confused. "Why?"

Sirius grimaced. "Because if I'm right, then we've got a runaway Death Eater on our hands."

Andi frowned and took a seat in an armchair after finishing with Regulus. "How long has it been since you two spoke?"

"Barely at all since I left, but we spoke briefly right before I finished school."

"Almost two years?"

Sirius nodded, clenching his jaw. Abruptly, he spun on his heel, away from Andi and Regulus, and began the process of strengthening the wards on his flat. Sirius felt rather than saw the ward stones from which the spells were tied and reached out his magic, searching for holes in his existing wards and filling them as needed. Warding was something of a hobby of his, a useful talent in these times of war; back in school he had entertained the idea of becoming a curse-breaker, a notion that had died when life and war got in the way. His job now was to survive and protect.

* * *

 _Regulus stood above Sirius, who was on his hands and knees below him, his wand pointing unflinchingly between the other man's eyes. Sirius looked up, silvery eyes hard, and spat blood._

 _"I saw this coming. All I had to do was look at what you've become."_

 _Regulus was silent, but Sirius continued._

 _"You'll finally have risen to the spotlight, Regulus. Taken out the brightest star."_

 _Regulus glared and moved his wand closer._

 _"It was your life or mine, Sirius. Avada Kedavra."_

 _Sirius fell limp on the ground, the force of Regulus's spell knocking him flat on his back. Blood coated Sirius's lips and chin, and those eyes that had been so piercing from the moment he was born were dulled from mercury to a dim grey. Regulus stared at the corpse impassively for a moment before turning on his heel and dissaparating._

 _The scene changed, and Regulus was struggling against an inferius, his back against the ground. Icy, skeletal, hands closed around his throat and forced his chin up. Unwittingly, Regulus looked up into the creature's face, taking in the lank dark hair and sagging skin in with a gag. Another monster's hand enclosed his ankle and began to drag him towards the water, but this one inferius was particularly intent on keeping hold of his neck, locking the two inferi in a tug-of-war over Regulus's body. His vision was starting to cloud and the last thing he saw before he blacked out were a set of clouded grey eyes…_

Regulus awoke with a panic, the remnants of his dream twisting and fading in his head. He could still feel the long-fingered hands of the reanimated corpses on every inch of his body, the deadened stare of his brother's corpse and his own horrible satisfaction at that.

And yet, he couldn't open his eyes, which meant it stood to reason that he was dead. But the muffled sounds of people talking made his gut feeling that that was not the case all the stronger.

"—still unconscious… the numbing charms are going wear off soon, and I won't put them back again. I'll ennerveate him if I have to, but that would hurt like hell," a voice said.

"It's going to hurt like hell either way, isn't it?" asked another.

A pause.

"Yes…" replied the first.

"Then just wake him up while the numbing charms are still on, I want to hear this story."

"Fine. Regulus, if you can hear me, I'd like to apologize in advance. _Ennerveate."_

A shot of pure adrenaline racked through his body and Regulus was suddenly confronted with the truth that he was very much alive. In the most painful way possible, it seemed. His vision was still blurred and spotted with stars, but those definitely were people there and he definitely needed a pain reliever. Impulsively, Regulus tried to sit up, only to have his body pushed back into whatever he was laying on.

"Can you hear me, Regulus? Nod yes," instructed the first voice, that Regulus had now distantly identified as female.

Regulus nodded slightly and started to close his eyes again. Someone pinched him and his eyes flew back open.

"No, no sleeping. Regulus!"

"If this was a different situation and that wasn't Reggie, I'd say he's drunk," the second voice drawled.

"Hush up, Sirius, or I swear to Merlin I'll hex you."

Regulus's heart thudded in his chest. He coughed to clear his throat. "Sirius?" he croaked, feeling an inordinate amount of relief that he had not actually killed his brother.

"Hullo, Reg. What in the _hell_ did you drink?"

"Do ignore him, Regulus. Sirius's been awake for nearly two days and won't go to bed; he's rather cranky. Drink this." A vile potion was poured down his throat, which Regulus barely succeeded in keeping down. "Skele-gro. You've broken your wrist, collarbone, leg, and a few ribs."

"Andi?"

"Two for two!" Sirius called.

Andi noticeably ignored him. "Though, your fever has yet to break. I hate to quote Sirius, but what did you drink?"

Regulus tried to shrug and winced.

"Collarbone, Regulus," Andi said exasperatedly. Another potion, this one arguably worse than the last. It caused Regulus to start to cough like mad again. "That one was because you nearly drowned, to fix up your lungs."

Regulus nodded and shut his eyes again, thanking whoever was up there that Andi was letting him do so.

"Reg!"

Or not.

"What?" Regulus mumbled in response to Sirius.

"Tell me why your house-elf force apparated me to a weird cave where you were getting strangled by inferi."

Regulus opened his eyes slowly, then bit back a yelp when Sirius turned out to be a mere two feet away from him.

"He wasn't supposed to do that," Regulus replied eventually. This was apparently the wrong thing to say.

"Regulus, please tell me that doesn't mean what I think it does."

Regulus felt a bit like he was a petulant child being scolded. Sirius always was the only one who could accomplish that. He coughed again and blinked in an attempt to clear his vision. "What time is it?" he asked instead.

"Seven. You've been unconscious for a day."

"Short story or long story, then?"

"Both," was Sirius's short reply. Just then, Andi announced that she really needed to get home to her daughter, and that Sirius should call if she was needed. She hugged Sirius goodbye and deigned Regulus with a soft smile, which he tried his best to return, then left out of the floo. Sirius shut off the connection and crossed his arms in a silent gesture for Regulus to spill it.

Regulus nodded, and quietly began with the short story.

"Yesterday afternoon I was called into Lestrange Mansion by the Dark Lord. He gave me a mission. Up until now, my job has just been to use the Black Library to research. I don't go on raids or attacks. But this was a different job, and it sped up my plans."

"What were your plans?"

"Part of the long story. Anyway, the Dark Lord requires a test of my loyalty. I have been ordered to either recruit or kill you, in two days' time. So, twenty-four hours from now, I'm supposed to go back with either you or your head."

Sirius drew back from him, leaning against a coffee table and letting his wand drop into his hand. Regulus's eyes followed him warily. "Great," he muttered furiously. "I save your life and you're trying to kill me."

"I have no intentions of following my orders, Sirius. I'm not so stupid as to believe that you would turn coat, and I haven't killed anyone ever before nor do I have any intentions to start now."

Regulus looked over to his brother, who technically wasn't even his brother anymore. Wasn't that a strange thought, and a right lie as well. Even when he was fifteen, when he had absolutely hated Sirius for leaving home and renouncing all ties to the family, Regulus had never thought of Sirius as anything other than a brother. Said brother was now stubbornly not looking at him, so Regulus sighed, turned his eyes back to the ceiling, and continued to talk.

"As for the long story, I took the mark winter of sixth year. While I was still in school, my job was recruiting, though I didn't even do much of that. Mostly I researched, using the Hogwarts restricted section and anything else I could get my hands on. The Dark Lord –"

Sirius looked at him sharply. "Say the name."

Regulus met his brother's stare. "Voldemort," he said without wavering, though his stomach did twist a bit. "had me learning of ancient, powerful, magics. I was played masterfully, I admit. He knows all about the Blacks from Bella, of course, and he knew what to offer me to get me to do what he wanted. His whole operation works on empty promises and bloodlust, and you must be willing to believe in the first and possess the second to rise in his ranks. I have no bloodlust and am only willing to believe so much."

Sirius's gaze was unsympathetic, which Regulus felt he deserved. He was awfully unsympathetic towards himself too.

"Thus, my loyalty and infatuation with the Death Eater regime faded quickly. You don't drop out though, you serve until you die." He lifted his left arm, where he was pleased to note that Andi didn't heal the vicious slashes through his skin. "A mark on more than skin. It is dirty and tainted, a mark I will bear even after death. Forever reminding me of my greatest mistake."

There was a glimmer of something that passed over Sirius's face, gone almost immediately after it appeared. "Your greatest mistake?"

Regulus barked out a bitter laugh. "Merlin above, Sirius, have I not made it clear yet? In my mind, I'm no Death Eater. I haven't liked myself since I was sixteen because of him! He stole my mind, my youth; he stole my soul! When he ordered me to kill you or face my death, because he had to have known you would never turn, I didn't even think about going after you. Your life is so much more valuable than mine! You are loved, you love, and in the end, you will win this war because of that! I saw a chance to die for a cause worth dying for, so I took it. I took it, because it was either that or die in another day at the foot of a _monster_ that I so foolishly made my master when I was sixteen years old!"

His voice had gotten harsher rather than louder by the end of his rant, and he was breathing heavily. Sirius's eyes were wide as he watched him, and Regulus continued in a low voice after his breathing had slowed.

"Voldemort has done awful, terrible, things. Things that would have been better lost to time, and that's coming from me. He has infringed on the basic laws of man, and there will be no mercy for him when his time comes. He has desecrated his soul, all in a frivolous hope to make it so he will never have to deal with his childish fear of death. That is why I was in that cave. A month ago, he required the use of a house elf. Bella so kindly offered up Kreacher, probably because she knew I was fond of him. Kreacher went with the Dark..." Regulus corrected himself at Sirius's look. "Voldemort, and they went to the cave. Voldemort bragged all the way, thinking that Kreacher would die soon anyway and be unable to tell anyone. Foolish of him, as any self-respecting pureblood would know that a house-elf can do almost anything to follow his master's orders. And I ordered Kreacher to come home, and house-elves can bypass almost any wards as it is. He was ill for a week after word, from the same potion that I drank."

"What is that potion?" Sirius asked with narrowed eyes, wisely ignoring the rest of what Regulus had said in his little fit of emotion. Regulus tried to shrug again, forgetting about his apparently broken collarbone.

"I don't know. It was worse for Kreacher, though, since he's so much smaller than a man. When I first drank it, it felt like a dementor but a million times worse. It caused weird nightmares, too," Regulus added, shuddering slightly as he thought of the cold, undead hands around his neck. Unconsciously, Regulus brought his non-broken hand to his neck, wincing when he felt bruises there. Deciding that he couldn't take being prone and immobile for any longer, he very slowly pushed himself into a half-sitting position against the armrest of what he assumed was Sirius's couch. "Trust me when I say I looked in everything I could find though. I think it must have been of Voldemort's own design."

"Why did you drink it anyway?" Sirius asked.

"I had to, the horcrux was at the bottom of a basin of the stuff," Regulus replied. Sirius, however, had gone deathly pale.

"He made a horcrux?" Sirius whispered. Regulus's eyes widened.

"You know what a horcrux is?" he asked incredulously.

"You weren't the only one who hid out in the library in the summers, Reg."

Regulus's mind whirled with the implications. "But… only the tomes of the darkest magic even mention horcruxes! Why would you have been reading those?"

Sirius lifted his chin. "You can't very well fight the dark arts without knowing what you're fighting, can you? I used fiendfyre to get you out of that cave; most of the dark arts are only dark if you use them with dark intent. I've killed for those I love, and I'll do it again if need be."

Regulus felt like his entire perception of his brother had been flipped on its axis. Those were almost his thoughts exactly. He shook his head to clear it, blinking at the bout of dizziness that followed. And Sirius had killed? Regulus supposed he would do the same if he had anyone he was willing to kill for. Oh, who was he kidding, he'd kill for Sirius or Andi, or even Andi's daughter with the muggleborn, who he'd only managed to meet once.

Sirius apparently took his silence differently, as his stare turned angry as it flicked to Regulus's left forearm. "Like you're one to judge," he said derisively.

Regulus blinked, confused. "I'm not judging. I would do the same, and I agree with you on all levels on your perception of the Dark Arts. I always have thought that the Hogwarts curriculum when it came to Defense was woefully pitiful."

Sirius's lips quirked into a half-smile. "You would, wouldn't you?" he said bemusedly.

It was Regulus's turn to lift his chin defensively. "Yes, I would. The Dark Lord would never have gained so much if there were more half-competent fighters out there."

Sirius didn't bother to correct him. "And he made a horcrux."

Regulus faltered. "Actually… I think he's made several. It's why he looks like he does, and he's look like that for years."

"Alright, well, that would mean he's either aiming for three or seven. Those are the most magically powerful numbers after all," Sirius said introspectively.

"Seven. Voldemort never works small. That would mean, though, that he is theoretically making six horcruxes, with the seventh part of his soul residing in his body."

Sirius nodded. "Normally I would go straight to Dumbledore, but since you went traipsing off in to a cave chock full of inferi instead of doing that, I take it you don't want to do that," he said wryly.

"I have no intentions of going from one master whose methods I don't believe in to another, thank you."

Sirius lifted an eyebrow. "I work for Dumbledore, you know. Technically."

"Oh, I know. I'm frankly surprised you don't have half the Order in here by now," Regulus shot back. "Dumbledore works mainly through guilt trips and people's sense of honor. I have no objections to his end goal, but I'll bet that he's held that incident with Snape in your fifth year over your head since then."

"How the hell do you know about that?" Sirius asked angrily.

"You didn't believe Snape would keep his trap shut, did you?" Regulus asked. "I think Dumbledore made him swear a Wizard's vow that he wouldn't tell anyone about your friend, but Severus found very creative ways to imply Lupin is a werewolf. Though frankly, any intelligent person would be able to tell."

Sirius massaged his temples. "By your tone I'd guess you knew before," he said resignedly.

"Second year," Regulus stated a little proudly. "I never told anyone. If they couldn't figure it out on their own, then I saw no reason to clue them in."

To his surprise, Sirius shot him a grateful look. "That was decent of you, Reg. Now, if you don't want to go to Dumbledore, then what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to have to die."

"No," Sirius said immediately.

Regulus rolled his eyes, but he felt a warmth course through him. "Kreacher!"

The old elf appeared, took one look at Regulus, then promptly started to bawl. Sirius and Regulus traded a look.

"Kreacher couldn't destroy the bad man's nasty necklace, no matter what Kreacher tried! Kreacher has failed Master Regulus!" The elf bashed his head against the coffee table, causing both Black brothers to jump, Sirius swearing rather fluently and Regulus to do so less loudly, rubbing at his ribs.

"That's okay, Kreacher, stop punishing yourself. Can you do something for me?"

The elf stared at Regulus with wide eyes. "Anything for Master."

"Can you alter the magic of the family tapestry?" Regulus asked hopefully.

"Kreacher can, yes," the elf said after a moment.

"Good. I want you to go back to Grimmauld, and make it so the tapestry shows that I die today. Make sure Mother sees it. Then, bring me the locket."

Kreacher nodded vigorously. "Kreacher's loyalty is to Master Regulus first. Kreacher will do what Master says, even though it will break my poor Mistress's heart."

Regulus thanked the elf, though he was fighting the urge to laugh at Sirius, who was muttering under his breath about their mother's lack of heart; his epithets were truly inspired. Kreacher disappeared with a crack, and Regulus turned to Sirius.

"Well, I'm dead. How's that?"

"I hate that thing," was Sirius's response, glaring at the spot where Kreacher had just been.

* * *

 ** _Author's note:_** For the purposes of this story, I'm altering Sirius's personality from the HP books just a little. Nothing drastic, but I am up-playing his intelligence and so called "Slytherin-side". I feel justified in doing this because I want to highlight how much his personality had to have changed from Azkaban. He is rash, brutal, and fiercly protective of what he feels is his, with skewed morals and a more than a bit of a dark side. One of the reasons the fic is being kept ship free is that when people try and pair Sirius with someone things tend to get pretty "sunshine and daisies" pretty fast. Call me a cynicist, but life doesn't work like that, and especially not the lives of the Black Brothers. With Regulus, his personality is an kind of an unknown, but remember this is a guy who wrote a "fuck you" note to the darkest wizard of all time. He's not a perfect mother's boy like some people seem determined to cast him as. I'm sure he has just as much reason to resent his parents as Sirius does

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REVIEWS PLEASE.


	3. Man of a Thousand Faces

_**Not named Joanne, not capable of spelling favorite with a u, not a world-renowned author who makes more money than I can comprehend. I own nothing. Nothing I say! Nothing!**_

 ** _I'll explain things at the end, so please read the AN._**

* * *

In the last five years, the moon had become something of a savior to Sirius. There were, of course, the full moon nights with Remus, James, and Peter; those were some of his best memories. That was only once a month, though, and yet the night never ceased to have a pull on him.

As a child, Sirius had been taught to wear masks. There was one for when he spoke to someone "below" himself, one for when he was trying to get something he wanted, one for when he spoke to family. The structure of a well-placed smile had been taught right along history and magic. It had been nearly ten years since he truly was taught such teachings, and yet they remained as much a part of Sirius as his eyes or his hair. Of course, he no longer sneered when faced with a muggleborn, but the masks never left; only evolved. He had mastered the ability laugh at the right times, to flash a grin when it was needed, to act carefree and deliriously happy at any time.

At night was when the masks could come off. And hell, it was exhilarating.

Sirius had tried to explain this to James once, but James was one of those people who were expressive to the point that even a total stranger could tell his mood with just a look at his face. Prongs didn't understand what it was like to have emotions inside that never made it even close to the surface.

Remus was different, because he had taught himself not only to not show his emotions, but not to feel them in the first place.

And all of that was okay, but it meant that neither James nor Remus would ever understand the thrill of the night quite like Sirius did.

That was why he was leaning out of his apartment window at two in the morning with a cigarette between his lips and the freezing November wind in his hair. Even though he was physically, mentally, emotionally, and even magically exhausted, what with his last twenty-four hours. So lost was Sirius in his thoughts that he didn't even notice Regulus limp over and lean against the wall right away. When he did notice, however, he frowned.

"You shouldn't be up."

The younger brother waved a hand lazily. "Couldn't sit still any longer," he said. Sirius nodded and blew a ring of smoke, watching it dissipate into the night air. They were silent for a while, before Regulus let out a breathy laugh.

Sirius looked at him incredulously. "What?" he asked.

Regulus coughed and shook his head. "What do you say in this situation? We haven't spoken in two years, to everyone but you, Andi, and Kreacher I'm a dead man, and I'm in possession of part of the Dark Lord's soul." He shrugged. "You were always the social one. I think I've forgotten how to go about being social, with everything going on."

Sirius was struck then, for the first time in the last day, with how young Reg really was. How young they both really were. Regulus had always been something of an old soul, so it was easy to forget a lot of the time.

He tried to throw his brother a metaphorical bone. Finally, before the silence could go awkward, Sirius just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Lily's pregnant."

One of Regulus's eyebrows arched. "That was fast. She and Potter married what, four months ago?"

Sirius snorted and offered Regulus a cigarette, which he took and lit with a snap of his fingers. "That's what Remus and I said, but hey…" Sirius made a gesture with his hand. "I'll be a godfather. Which is really strange, but cool, I think." That was a bit of a lie, because James and Lily's baby made him feel like he was grown up, and Sirius was barely holding himself out of the chasm of adolescence as it was. He was far too likely to do stupid things on a moment's whim to have any part in the raising of a child.

Regulus studied his brother, then his cigarette, then took a drag. When his lungs didn't immediately protest, the former Death Eater left it in his mouth and joined Sirius at the window. "You'll be good at that, I'd imagine. A tough time to be expecting though, is it not?"

"Yeah, but they're nineteen and in love. I don't imagine that they much care," Sirius said thoughtfully.

"Happy birthday, by the way," Regulus said. Sirius nodded. "Why's it that people make such a fuss about being in love?"

Sirius choked. "Merlin above, Reg. You really have forgotten how to have a conversation."

His little brother shrugged and flicked some ash out the window. "I've always wondered, that's all."

"Bloody hell, I don't know. I've never known what the fuss was about either," Sirius said slowly. In hindsight, he should have known that this conversation had no chance of going anywhere normal. "But yeah, James has been in love with Lily for ages, and even when she was routinely hexing him in corridors he thought it was the best thing ever."

"Mulciber got married, you know," Regulus said after some silence spent contemplating Sirius's answer.

"Who would marry him?" Sirius asked incredulously. How they had ended up playing the "who's married/who's pregnant" game was beyond him, but it was considerably better than the usual "who's dead" game that was often played nowadays.

"Some girl from Durmstrang, I believe. If she didn't speak English that would explain a lot," Regulus replied, scrunching up his face like this was a puzzle he had spent a decent amount of time thinking about and had found no answer.

"The Mulcibers had to go all the way to Russia to get Nicky a girl. That's almost sad," Sirius said, chuckling. He hoped she was a hag. "Oh! I've got one. Alice and Frank Longbottom are expecting."

"I don't remember her," Regulus said with a frown. "He's a pureblood."

"Yes, she is too, but she's like a second cousin to the main Prewetts, you know, Gideon, Fabian. Alice was Head Girl when you were a… second year? Maybe?"

Regulus tilted his head to the side, then nodded. "Sounds right. She's short, brown hair, bit of a baby-face?"

"That's her," Sirius confirmed.

"Auror?"

Sirius nodded. Regulus grinned delightedly.

"She's the one who immobilized Snape for a month! He didn't have any bones below his waist, and they had to call me in to find the countercurse, because skele-gro wouldn't do anything."

"Oh, sweet Merlin," Sirius spluttered, laughing. "I'll have to thank her."

"It took me three days to figure out how to undo it." Regulus snickered, then his face went dead serious. "Oh, guess who finally managed to get Cissy pregnant?"

Sirius's jaw dropped. "There's going to be a baby Lucky?"

Regulus nodded seriously. "They were to name me godfather, but now that I'm dead…" He smiled, seemingly pleased. Though if Malfoy II was anything like his father, Sirius thought he could empathize.

He shook his head. "I have to tell James that his kid is going to go to school with Lucky Jr. That'll go well."

Regulus smirked and shook his head bemusedly. A crease formed between his brows. "How come your friends haven't been by, anyway? You and that lot were inseparable in school."

"Remus and Pete are on long-term missions. And James will probably be right pissed with me once I open my floo connection."

There was something in Regulus's answering smile that Sirius couldn't quite place.

"By the way, don't tell anyone that Lily's pregnant. He wasn't supposed to tell me, precisely."

Regulus snorted. "Who would I tell? Andi? Or Kreacher? How about a random muggle on the street?"

Sirius smiled sheepishly. "Right. Keep thinking you're going to disappear."

"Can't walk, an inferius snapped my wand, own a piece of Voldemort's soul, don't particularly _want_ to go anywhere…" Regulus set his smoke in his mouth and counted them out on his good hand. "I'm here for now. Though I keep thinking you're going to kick me out."

Sirius shook his head. "Nah. Honest, I'd forgotten how much fun you could be to have around back when you weren't a prat."

Regulus smiled wryly. "You too."

"I resent that."

"You should."

Sirius half-smiled and leant further out of the window, relishing in the rush that it gave him. "You were a bigger prat."

"I swear Sirius, are we twelve? We had a long conversation about how much of a prat I was," Regulus laughed. Suddenly he looked about fifteen, and yet not at all. Sirius couldn't recall Regulus ever smiling when he was fifteen, but there hadn't been any friendly contact between them at that time. "Remember? It was six hours ago."

"You were a lot easier to insult when you were ten," Sirius said nostalgically, but his smile dropped. That was about the last time they had been anything resembling proper brothers, after all.

"Yeah," Regulus breathed, suddenly looking very world weary and tired. And about thirty.

"You should probably sleep, Reg."

Regulus frowned and scrubbed a hand over his brow, pushing his fringe back. "Probably shouldn't smoke, either, but here I am," he said blithely, waving the almost-out cigarette around before stubbing it on the brick windowsill. "I've worked at night for years, anyway."

Sirius accepted that answer, but he was curious. "Why?"

"Same reason I suspect you're up with me," said Regulus. "Well, not exactly. In school, it was because of a general distain for my classmates. Now, I guess it's just easier for me to think in the dark."

"There's a freedom to it," Sirius mused. "That's what I fight for, you know. My freedom." It sounded selfish to say it out loud, considering he had better things he could fight for. That was what made it worth the while, though. That, and something in his bones that wanted to fight.

"You'll have Potter's child to fight for now, too," Regulus returned and pushed away from the window, then sat himself in front of Sirius's coffee table. "You wouldn't happen to have a silver dagger, would you? I lost mine."

Sirius blinked at the rapid change of topics, then shook his head and decided to write that off as a part of talking to his brother.

"I've got a kitchen knife that Lily made me get so I could look like a functioning adult."

Regulus stared for a moment, then cocked his head to the side in thought. "That will do."

"Do I want to ask why, Reg?" Sirius asked tiredly as he went to rummage in his kitchen cupboards. He found the knife eventually, then in a fit of spontaneity grabbed a bottle of firewhiskey. Sirius figured he'd need it.

"Probably not."

* * *

Regulus drew the final rune over his skin with painstaking care, then picked up the ink-coated knife and began the painful process of carving them permanently into his skin. Sirius, who had figured out what he was doing after several minutes of watching Regulus draw around the Dark Mark, put down his bottle of booze and had his wand out to heal the wounds as they appeared. Regulus had been studying the runic sequences necessary to cancel out the spells tied into the mark for a week before his foray into Voldemort's cave, and though he wasn't sure if the Dark Lord knew that he was alive, the thought of having such a connection with the horcrux-making fool was not appealing. A little (lot) of blood was an easy price to pay.

A few hours later, Regulus was feeling faint and Sirius had picked up his alcohol again, but Regulus had a new tattoo that only needed to be sealed magically.

Sirius passed Regulus his wand with a slightly drunken smirk.

"You've got a sleeve, Reg!" he said excitedly. Regulus murmured something in response that didn't make sense to even his own ears and took the wand. He let his head drop back onto the couch and attempted to calm his spinning head.

Sirius, however, was still talking. "We can put you on the bike! That would be wicked! Almost worth all of the blood!"

Regulus looked up and blinked at him, trying momentarily to figure out what bike Sirius was even talking about before giving up and listening in quiet amusement.

A few minutes went by this way before Regulus finally felt coherent enough to mutter the correct incantations with Sirius' wand to seal the runes that he had scribbled on a piece of parchment. The black runes glowed white in the early morning grey light before fading.

Sirius burst out laughing and Regulus looked at him tiredly and let his head sink back onto the couch.

"I can't believe you're a giggly drunk," he muttered. Sirius shook his head.

"Just more expressive," he said brightly.

Regulus shook his head and closed his eyes, trying his hardest to ignore the dull throbbing in his… well, everywhere. It wasn't long before he fell asleep.

* * *

 _February 15, 1977_

Regulus pulled his hood up and cloak around himself tighter, trying in vain to dull the chill that always permeated the castle in the winter, especially at night. He could rely on good instincts alone to take him where he needed to be, and his instincts wouldn't be working top notch if he was an ice cube.

He made his way to the library on autopilot, with one hand on his wand and the other stuffed in his pocket, skating along the walls and in the shadows. His mind was wholly on other things.

Regulus froze. Literally.

Someone had body bound him, and that was bad. Teachers couldn't use defensive magic against students unless it was an emergency, and legally, Regulus wasn't doing anything wrong or dangerous. Well, at least not yet. It was only a few seconds before Regulus had forced enough of his magic in between himself and the curse and thrown it off, but whoever was there was near.

A breath's pause, then he was slammed violently into the wall. By a person, which came as a bit of a surprise.

"Forgot you had a wand, there?" drawled Regulus, a bit breathlessly. He had to keep his composure, after all.

"Sometimes muggle methods are more effective," the person returned in the same tone as he tightened his grip. Regulus stared at his brother, who clearly didn't recognize him in the dark and with his cloak on. He wasn't sure how he felt about that as he kicked Sirius hard in the shin. The older brother swore and dropped him, and Regulus dusted himself off.

"You would, wouldn't you, bloodtraitor?" he snarled.

"That's hardly an insult. These days it's practically a term of endearment," Sirius said bitingly. Before Regulus could properly process the movement, Sirius had pulled his hood off.

Silver eyes met charcoal, then Sirius sent a fist at his face.

"Fuck you," he bit out. "You dare to call me traitor!"

Regulus dodged and shoved his brother into the opposite wall.

"Don't mess with things you don't understand," he hissed back angrily, replacing his hood. "I dare call you a great many things, _brother."_ Sirius pushed himself away from the stone and cast a significant glance to Regulus's left forearm.

"I understand enough."

Regulus let out a sharp breath in the effort to control his temper, the turned back to the Slytherin dormitories without another moment. The restricted section could wait.

"Bitter are the wars between brothers," he murmured to himself later that night, under cover of darkness and emerald velvet curtains. It was even colder down in the dungeons. Regulus snorted and squinted at his arm, where he could just make out the still fresh skull-and-serpent. "Fucking poetic."

* * *

Sirius awoke slumped in an armchair with a bit of a nasty hangover the next morning. He groaned and, half-asleep, forced himself to the kitchen to get a glass of water, rubbing his stiff neck.

He came back into the living room and froze for a second, blinking at the scene in front of him as memories from the previous two days came flooding into focus, previously hidden by exhaustion and alcohol.

Sirius rubbed his forehead tiredly. "Bloody hell," he murmured, eying the half-empty whiskey bottle next to his chair longingly. "And here I thought I was dreaming all this up."

Deciding to forgo firewhiskey until at _least_ one o'clock in the afternoon, Sirius set about making tea. Before he left the room he shot one final glance over his shoulder at his younger brother to, you know, make sure he was still there and not a alcohol induced delusion. He had heard of some stuff you could buy in Knocturn that did that sort of thing, and it surely wouldn't be the first time someone had tried to slip him something.

Alright, maybe noon could be an acceptable time for firewhiskey. Eleven-thirty, if Regulus was in a difficult mood, which Sirius recalled as being often. Lily would never know, and therefore could not yell at him.

The memories from the minute Kreacher popped into his apartment and successfully upended his life were coming in bursts, most of them quite violent in nature. Sirius wasn't entirely sure if this was firewhiskey or adrenaline caused, though he would suspect the latter, considering he hadn't been that drunk. Sirius Black could hold his liquor, Sirius reminded himself forcefully when his head gave a painful twinge. He was not the type to pass out after three shots, like Peter.

Sirius remembered well the time in the cave, and subsequently after with Andromeda. The twenty-four hours after that, however, were almost gone from his memory. He was pretty sure it involved a lot of blinking at Regulus to make sure he didn't disappear. _Or die_ , a traitorous little voice sounded in his head before being ruthlessly shoved down. That was just a tad too reminiscent of when James had ended up in Mungo's after a thwarted mission last year and Lily and Sirius hadn't left his room for a week. Sirius'… _feelings_ … toward his biological brother were murky at best, as the extreme fondness he had felt toward Regulus when he was growing up had been buried and hidden by nearly seven years of neglect and later dislike, resentfulness, for a brief time downright hate, then settling on… well, ignorance, for lack of a better word. It never left, per say, but in this case absence made the heart grow bitter.

To put it shortly, he was being confronted with feelings that had absolutely no good place in his messily-organized mind. Objectively, Sirius was feeling them, the feelings, but he had never been all that in touch with his mind. Touched in the mind, a few people had said (occasionally Sirius was inclined to agree), but still…

Merlin above, at this rate he was going to need the whiskey in his morning tea.

His other problem was that so far Regulus had been sort of pleasant. Or, at least, the Regulus Black-brand of pleasant, which was far at odds with what Sirius' head was trying to convince him; that Regulus was a _Death Eater_ (former), and _a Slytherin_ ("So?" his conscience, which sounded like Remus, said scathingly) _,_ and _the source of a good bit of your emotional trauma._ That last one, even Sirius could admit, was not even remotely Regulus' fault. That blame was on his parents. Yet, Reg was a reminder of that part of his life, the part that thrummed in his veins and showed itself at the oddest times, the part that Sirius liked to keep locked away and tightly leashed, in Gringotts Vault 711 right next to the goblin-silver that had come with his inheritance from Uncle Alphard.

It was around this time when Sirius noticed he had been standing in his kitchen and staring at the kettle for fifteen minutes. He shook his head and winced, then silently began wishing that he could stomach coffee without gagging, as the caffeine would hardly be unappreciated about now.

And there, as he sat sipping Earl Grey and doing the crossword while his brother slept what Sirius could tell was a fitful sleep against his couch, he felt the masks going back up.

After all, in the last five years, the sunrise, had become something of a darkness to Sirius. He couldn't deal with his reasoning for _that_ right now, though.

Not while the masks were up.

* * *

Bella opened the letter that had arrived via midnight-black eagle owl (typical of the Blacks) and smiled gleefully. She had always known, hadn't she, she had _warned_ the Dark Lord that ickle Reggie was much too soft to serve Him. Oh, a brilliant mind, he was, that was for sure. Bella doubted the Dark Lord had ever had a servant so sharp, which was perhaps why He liked Regulus so very much; but no, her baby cousin was far too soft. She had said, hadn't she, that Regulus couldn't take the life of a sparrow, much less something so marginally more complex as a muggle. _It will be necessary to have connections in the heads of the old families_ , _Bella, as you well know,_ her Lord had said. _Once Arcturus passes, Regulus will take headship, and I will have the power of Lord Black at my disposal. That is critical._

And so he allowed Regulus to take the mark, and Regulus did great research for Him, as well as became their healer, of a sort. It was a shame, Bella thought, that her cousin would not take a life, for if Sirius' duels were anything to go by, then Regulus' would have been exquisite. The _destruction_ , if he would only have worked with her, become her equal, would have been positively glorious.

Regulus was always far too fond of the blood traitor, however, try as he did to hide it. Both of them, but she must not think of her sister now. Andromeda was lower than the muggles now, as far as Bella was concerned. Oh, the things she could do to that waste of precious blood. _Those_ wastes of precious blood.

It was, unfortunately, a shame that the last of the Black line was ended, but better ended in glory than tarnished in dirty blood.

The Dark Lord had called conference with her and Rodolphus last night, and had said that Regulus was dead, most likely by his own hand. Bella did not need to know how He knew, but she trusted Him above all others. If the Dark Lord said Regulus Arcturus Black had drawn his last breath, then it was so.

Besides, Bella had a new mission. One she was delighted to fulfill, all on her own. It was lucky Regulus had been so weak as to trade in his life, at least for her.

What was a little more Black blood spilled, anyway?

Bella shook herself out of her trance and set the letter on her bedside table, then skipped over to her armoire. Aunt Walburga knew of her son's demise now, it seemed, or at least had seen it on the tapestry. Most unfortunate, Bella had always been fond of her Aunt, she was good with a curse. And, unlike her lesser-willed husband, Aunt Walburga hadn't been so apathetic as let Sirius leave unscathed. Oh, she wished she could have seen it, Regulus had told her once, flatly, that Sirius didn't even scream.

It was always fun when they didn't scream, when it took ever so long for their control to snap…

Bella would need mourning robes, something modest. She flicked her wand at her wardrobe, lining up the black items in front of her. Half of the items were pushed away immediately, and eventually Bella had found something that was somewhat, she grimaced to think it, _tasteful._ She shuddered, for the collared robe looked like something Cissy would wear.

Cissy would be so proud of her; Bella was sure she was expected by her sister to show up in leather corsets, which she would prefer naturally, but she was not without taste. She would wear her heeled boots, though. Cissy would be sad, Bella realized, though she couldn't for the life of her say why. She and Lucius had been planning to use Regulus as godfather, though, but Narcissa was barely two months along, and surely there were better options out there.

She dug around in the bottom of the armoire for her boots, but her hand brushed cool metal. Curious, Bella pulled out the picture frame and grinned. She opened it and pulled out the photo, where she, Andromeda, Sirius, Regulus, and Narcissa all sat stiffly. Bella must have been eighteen. One slash of her wand later, and Regulus' childish face bore a scarlet X.

"You next, pretty," she murmured with a playful poke.

* * *

 ** _Author's Notes:_** Sorry for the long update time, but I was vacationing. I'll keep this brief as possible, but there are a few things I want to say.

1\. We're going to go on an adventure down "severe emotional trauma and its long lasting emotional effects" lane in the near future, so stay tuned.

2\. I can't help but feel that Sirius is darker here than in most fics. In my head it fits canon. Also, in case you were wondering, my absolute favorite Sirius is actually in BC Daily's Commentarius. You probably weren't, but now you know. While we're playing this game, though, Harry Potter and Deus Ex Machina is an _amazing_ Regulus fic, for like the first half, then he gets a little forgotten during a bunch of Sirius drama.

3\. The runic tatoo. I'm anticipating questions on this, so I'm going to lay it out. In JK's world, she never really gets into the nitty-gritty of runes, so the subject, much like Arithmancy, is up to speculation. I thought it would be interesting if the runes themselves held power, and that's where Regulus' tatoo idea came from. The markings are infused with his magic, and act as a sort of countercurse to the protean and other assorted charms associated with the dark mark. It doesn't completely rid him of the effects, however, just, sort of... masks it, for lack of a better word. For example, Regulus will still feel the mark twinge and such occasionally, but Voldemort won't be able to call him, or feel him. As for the runes, I am trying not to make Regulus some sort of all-knowing super genius, but he's smart, okay? Runes are important to old magic, which is Regulus' passion.

4\. Lol, Bellatrix Lestrange is my secret favorite character. This was the first time I've written her, and I was giggling the whole time.

Not brief, but if you haven't noticed, I tend to go off on tangents!

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